Month: January 2018

We made several more of these attacks, all very successful but things were going too well. Much as we liked to think it, the Russians were not stupid and by now had probably realised it was the handiwork of one group.

Being young and more than a little overconfident by our, so far, successful forays against the Russians. We decided in our arrogance to attack a larger post at a major intersection in the City itself.

This time we all had weapons, including a machine-gun which Taras carried with pride, he had garrotted its previous owner, the remainder, even the girls carried rifles and grenades. We now in our naivety, considered ourselves a force to be reckoned with.

The one thing that we had never thought about or even considered, was that the enemy knowing of our existence, would plan to exterminate us before we could build up a following and turn in to a real threat, rather than just a nuisance.

The night came around, we had reconnoitred and everything seemed set. There were four sentries, not two, this presented a slight problem, we only had the two girls and we didn’t want the Russian soldiers to get close enough to manhandle them.

A plan was agreed upon, the girls would lure two of the Russians away from their posts and shoot them at point blank range, Taras would take out the two other sentries with his machine-gun. The rest of the gang would petrol bomb the post and kill any survivors.

It all seemed that simple. But life has a habit of kicking you in the teeth, and this time it did so with a vengeance.

Now that we had considered the Warheads, the next problem was once they were disarmed, who could collect / store the Uranium / Plutonium in a place that was both safe and secure.

‘Not a major problem, I feel sure that with a little coaxing my Boss would let me have an helicopter on call, to both retrieve the missile’s cores and the pair of us,’ replied Kat confidently.

‘Well!’ that certainly beats playing hide and go seek with the bidders, That’s a game I would happily avoid, they play nasty and they will be armed.’ I replied with a degree of certainty.

We resumed our scrutiny of the plans, the building had two floors and a large cellar, which was almost like another floor, but underground.

‘I’d like to bet the Warheads are stored in the cellar, and the technicians and their protective clothing will be in one of the adjacent rooms and I’ll also bet that in one of those cellar rooms you will find Schultz and Mayhew, Now that the plan has progressed this far, Schultz will be virtually sleeping with them.’ I stated.

‘Have you any thoughts on where we are likely to be staying?’ queried Kat. ‘If I had planned this, I would say the ground floor or the cellar, there aren’t many rooms in the cellar, so I’d plump for the ground floor. We will more than likely be sharing the floor with Sergei and his relatives, I think the bidders will be segregated on the second floor until they are needed, I don’t think Schultz would like them wandering about.’

Well now I’ve gone and done it!, I was made an offer that I couldn’t refuse and here I am, I have my own room as Doctor Jack’s guest. He says he wants nothing from me, but sooner all later all men want something from a girl like me, but to me that wouldn’t be a problem, Jack is kind and generous, what more could a girl like me want. the girls have all given me lots of advice, but I am happy just being here with Jack. He is such a good man, I have no wish to abuse or hurt him, no matter what they say. If truth be known, they are probably jealous, ’cause I’ve found a cushy berth.

As I made notes in the cellar about my current experiment, my thoughts kept wandering to my lodger, Mary Jane Kelly. She wasn’t the lady like Isabelle, but what little she lacks in manners, she more than makes up for in personality. She has a totally wicked sense of humour and had me in fits of laughter over dinner. With her around life will certainly not be dull.

I have no doubt in my mind that she is something of a rough diamond, but all diamonds start in the rough. In different clothes and different surroundings, I feel sure she could shine with the best of them. But its early times yet, we shall see.

I shall see her again at breakfast and dinner, she enhances my life and my table, all that matters to me is her happiness, and that I might somehow share in it. It sounds such a simple thing, but I feel she, like me has been sorely used. I want to be her friend and protector. But for now, one small step at a time.

After a couple of days of rioting the Russian tanks moved in to the city, destroying everything in their path. They had every intention of teaching us a hard and lasting lesson about the cost of rebellion.

Once the people had been cleared off the Streets, it became more of an occupation with Russian troops posted on Street corners and Intersections. These posts were generally managed by a handful of soldiers.

Our group held a meeting, and decided on a strategy to obtain more weapons. The two girls in the group were both young and attractive, so we decided to set a honey trap for the Russian soldiers.

We carefully chose secluded posts, where support would be delayed. The girls would approach and make eyes at the soldiers on sentry duty, it took lots of smiling and posturing but the Russians eventually got the message. They laid down their weapons and advanced grinning towards the girls.

This was the signal for myself and Taras, the two biggest men in the group to come out of the shadows and garrotte the Russians, the girls would collect their weapons and ammunition and hand them over to the waiting men who formed the remainder of our group.

They would then throw a petrol bomb at the post, anyone exposing themselves would be shot with their own weapons. Once the onslaught was over, we would swoop in, salvage whatever weapons and ammunition we could. Then as quick as possible return to our hideout. The cellar of a derelict factory on the outskirts of the city.

The first time we attempted this, it worked beautifully, we walked away unscathed with three rifles, two handguns, several grenades and a decent amount of ammunition. All taken in to account, it was a rewarding nights work. Maybe not a major event in terms of the Rebellion, but little acorns and all that, it was a good start.

Boelcke started his squadron in the space vacated by FFA 32 in the Velu woods. As of the 27th of August the fledgling Jasta had on its strength Three Officers and 64 other ranks, but no aircraft. But by the 8th of September there were eight pilots aboard and several aircraft. On the 16th of September the Jasta received five new Albatros D.Is and for Boelcke himself, the new and improved Albatros D.II.

Boelcke promptly put his unit in the air, in the first attempt to gain Air superiority. At 1300hrs on the 16th of September, Boelcke and five of his pilots took off. They intercepted a British Bombing raid on Marcoing Railway Station, while Boelcke watched his trainees bounced a British formation of 14 planes, broke it up and shot down two, Boelcke himself added another. The new Jasta had been blooded.

Boelcke shot down 10 British aircraft in his first month with Jasta 2, He would fly a solo mission in the morning then return to his trainees, who would ask if he had scored again, his reply was, ‘Is my chin black?’ which basically meant if there were cordite stains on his chin he had fired his machine guns, signifying another victory.

Boelcke set out for his sixth sortie of the day with Manfred von Richtofen and Erwin Bohme, his two best pilots and three others. the Patrol eventually became embroiled in a dogfight with British DH2s. A collision that occurred during this fracas was to cause Boelcke’s death.

Erwin Bohme, described the collision, Boelcke and I had one British plane evenly between us, when another opponent chased by Richtofen flew directly in our path, as fast as lightning Boelcke and I both took evasive action. Boelcke suddenly appeared a few metres on the right from me, his machine ducked, I pulled up hard, but nonetheless we touched, me…Only half of the undercarriage torn away, him the outermost part of the left wing. I had to watch as he could no longer set it down evenly and I watched him crash close to a battery position. People rushed to help but he had died on impact.

Bohme was so struck with the enormity of the tragedy, that he wanted to take his own life, but his fellow Officers convinced him not too. Boelcke’s tragic death could have been avoided if he had not broken his own rules: Dicta 8: If attacking in Jasta strength make sure that not many comrades fall on a single enemy. If either he or Bohme had left it to the other there is a good chance the accident wouldn’t have occurred.

Boelcke was buried with full military honours at his Aerodrome in Cambrai. The Royal Flying Corps dropped a wreath over Jasta 2’s Airfield which read To Captain Boelcke, a brave and chivalrous foe. Germany had lost a great airman and leader.

On my way home I called Kat, to see if she had, had any joy with the plans for the Hunting Lodge. Her, reply was in the affirmative and she would be at my flat at 8p.m.

This was excellent news, at least now we could get a basic plan together, of course there were a hundred and one things that could and might go wrong, but at least we could have the basic framework of a plan. Knowing the lay of the land was an advantage.

Kat arrived just before eight, I let her in, she kissed me on the cheek as she passed me mmm… this is something new, she must be looking forward to our little winter holiday.

Whilst I made coffees, Kat unrolled the plans of the Hunting Lodge on to the table, so that we could both study them and offer suggestions. With the intention that by both offering suggestions, we could form the basis of a plan for disarming the Warheads.

‘First!’ stated Kat, ‘We have to address the Warheads, they will have either a Uranium or Plutonium core. Uranium is not a major problem, but plutonium is something else, it is radio-active so that we would require sealable containers to place it in we would also need protective suits, this is highly volatile material to handle.’

‘Assuming the Warheads were stolen from the Russians, what is the core likely to be?’ I enquired, I was getting a bad feeling about handling these things. ‘If they are older, Cold War period they will most certainly be Uranium, if they are relatively modern, they could be either. But there are technicians too hand, so protective suits will be available on site.’

Everything she said made perfect sense, but I was far from being convinced, the terms frying pans and fire kept running through my mind.

I reminded her quite firmly that she was an employee, with less than perfect references, so from the moment she arrived Miss Kelly was to be treated as a guest, nothing more, nothing less. She be-grudgingly accepted my instructions but I fear mainly because I left her no choice, but time will tell.

When I arrived home, Mary was in her room, getting settled in. Mrs Mc Ginty announced that dinner would be served in fifteen minutes, I went to my own room, freshened up a little and then knocked on Mary’s door.

Mary opened it immediately, ‘You don’t have to knock, its your house just walk in, I’ve nothing to hide!’ she said smiling. ‘That may be all well and good, but I don’t want to lower your esteem in the eyes of my servants,’ And as an afterthought I added, ‘When we are in my home, please address me as Jack, not Doctor, I want us to be friends.’

‘But I hope we are friends, Lord knows, I already owe you so much I didn’t know where I would sleep tonight and thanks to your friendship and charity, I have a room and a nice warm bed,’ Mary replied and made me feel so much better.

‘Shall we repair to the Dining Room, Dinner is about to be served, I think you will appreciate Mrs Mc Ginty, she is a wonderful cook,’ I suggested taking her arm in mine.

We made small talk throughout the meal and I found Mary to be entertaining company, she was treated with grudging respect by Mrs Mc Ginty, who had obviously heeded my warning. We ate and drank together in a wonderfully informal atmosphere.

Mary had me howling with laughter with anecdotes of when she worked in a Milliners shop. She can be slightly coarse, but I find her company quite refreshing, quite the breath of fresh air that my life needed. After dinner we parted, Mary to her room and me to my experiments in the cellar.

I told my father of my intentions, He hugged me to him and said he was so proud of my decision, and that I was a true Magyar! He begged me to keep myself safe and return to the farm when the conflict was resolved.

And so, the following day with the good wishes of my family ringing in my ears and tears running down my cheeks. I left to make my way to Budapest to join the Revolution.

The Russians had in July 1956, to try and appease the Hungarian people, removed Rakosi, our Pro-Russian President and replaced him with the popular Imre Nagy who was very keen to see a free Hungary. Free from the Russian tyranny and their rule which was enforced by tanks and other weaponry.

Understandably the Russians were none too pleased about this and began to move their armoured forces to our borders in a show of force. It just made the Hungarian people more determined to defy them.

On arriving in Budapest, I found the city in uproar, the students and workers had joined forces in protesting in the streets in favour of President Nagy and his reforms and the breaking of the yoke that the Russians held on our country.

Although not truly one of them, I threw in my lot with a group of students, This group included two girls Irina and Zorcha and five more males beside myself, a total of eight. The only weapons we had were two rather ancient pistols, but we were Magyars, we would defeat the Russians barehanded if necessary, such is the confidence and folly of the young, But after all we had Atilla’s blood in our veins.

‘You can take bets on it, Abramski won’t be able to talk his way out of this one,’ Replied Kat. ‘Amen to that, it couldn’t happen to two nicer people!’ I stated and meant it.

Kat and I arranged to meet the following evening. Hopefully she would have plans of the hunting lodge, If we have knowledge of the layout, It would make life so much easier.

But before then I had to report to Schultz and Mayhew for more tuition in Russian, and possibly a little more information, who know’s? I certainly don’t.

After something of a restless night, spent considering how many different scenario’s could end up with my head on the block. I felt a little better after a hot shower and a full breakfast.

On arriving at the Office, I was given my usual gushing welcome by Mayhew and the usual non-committal shrug from Schultz, who I’m sure was also pleased to see me. Nothing was venture and Olga was summoned and I resumed my tuition.

I didn’t mind, Olga had a sense of humour and made my learning as much fun as she could, bearing in mind that Schultz and Mayhew were never very far from us. We took our usual break for lunch, Olga was as usual sent for coffee and sandwiches, I tried to work on Mayhew while Olga was out of the Office. but while Schultz was around he would say nothing.

Olga returned with lunch, we made a little small talk over our coffee and sandwiches, then it was back to work, if you choose to term it that way. At around 4.30 Mayhew said to call it a day, and he would see us both again in the morning.

He informed me that tomorrow was my last day, so my Russian must be faultless, they would be testing me. It came as something of a shock, but in all reality I should have expected no less. They had to be sure I wouldn’t compromise the operation.

‘ Well!’ I said, still procrastinating, ‘I would like to offer you a room in my house, before you misunderstand my offer, I want nothing from you but the occasional company at mealtimes. You will live rent free and be treated as if you were a paying guest until such time as you can fend for yourself.’

She looked a little surprised by my offer, I have no idea what she had been expecting, maybe some sort of proposition, she is after all an attractive young woman. I’m sure that many men in my position would have tried a much coarser approach.

‘I’m flummoxed, Jack! you have me totally at a loss for words, of course I most gracefully accept, you are such a good man, A real prince!’ Replied Mary.

‘I will instruct Mrs Mc Ginty to prepare a room ready for your arrival, will you need a carriage for your belongings,’ I enquired. ‘I’ll be fine, I’ve only one battered old suitcase and I can manage that. Are you going to give me your address, then I can be all settled in when you return from the Infirmary.’

‘That’s wonderful, I’ll let Mrs Mc Ginty know to expect you!’ I replied. Mary left, with a smiling face and I returned back to my duties, I wondered had I done the right thing, once again I had let my heart rule my head. Then I thought of sharing my mealtimes in the company of Mary and my doubts soon evaporated.

I decided to pop home at lunch time and inform Mrs Mc Ginty of the situation, She didn’t take it at all well, I have no idea what her problem is with Mary, or whether she was merely trying to protect me from my own folly.

(C) Damian Grange 2018

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Introduction

Hello everyone, I’m Malcolm Marsh or Malkie which I prefer a 74yrs old aspiring author from Nottingham. England. I have been writing for pleasure for many years and now I would like to pass on some of that pleasure to others. I write various styles under several pseudonyms. In my earlier years I was a musician and music still plays a major part in my life, I have a varied and eclectic taste, I often write with musical backing I find it stimulates my creative parts